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I LIBRARY OF CONGRESS,! 






I UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. | 



L YTEEI A : 

4 



A DRAMATIC POEM 

V 






Ha^ 






BOSTON: 
TICK NOR AND FIELDS 

MDCCCL1V. 



.9 ?/-<? 



Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1S54, by 

TICK NOR AND FIELDS, 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 



boston: 
thurston', torrt, axd emerson, printers. 



PREFACE. 



There is a beautiful thought somewhere 
expressed by Jean Paul Richter, that, to the 
Unseen Spirit, each age of the world appears 
far more noble, than in the record it leaves 
behind. History and tradition tell us chiefly 
of the self-sacrifice of men; while another class 
of heroic deeds — those wrought by woman in 
her social relations, and consequently unsus- 
tained by present applause, or the hope of 
future fame — are unchronicled. 

The purpose of the following poem is to ex- 
hibit feminine devotion, put to the highest 
possible proof; thereby to suggest how often 
the greatest achievements of man result from 
domestic promptings, given through personal 
suffering, that the world suspects, as little as 
it could understand. 

The liberties taken with the tradition of the 
Curtian leap in its present dramatic form, are 



IV PREFACE. 

excused by precedents too common and well 
known to be quoted. The noxious exhalations 
of the gulf (which have actually attended 
similar fissures) must be supposed, in order to 
create a necessity sufficiently strong for so 
great a sacrifice. 

An approach has been made to the unities 
of time and place. The incidents of each act 
are given in a single scene, and the period of 
action is less than three days. 

In attempting this most difficult form of 
composition, — a dramatic poem of artistic con- 
struction, elevated sentiment, and forcible dic- 
tion, — a strong sense was entertained of the 
many requirements, and consequent possibili- 
ties of failure, attending its execution. It was 
also not forgotten that such a production, even 
when good, is to the taste of comparatively 
few, and can seldom meet the success of gen- 
eral popularity. 

. Several lines, purposely incomplete, will be 
found throughout the poem. Indebtedness is 
likewise acknowledged to the novel Zanoni, 
for the suggestion of one or two passages in 
the first act. 



DRAMATIS PERSONS. 

Lucius Genucius — Consul. 

Doslius — High Priest in the Temple of Jupiter. 

Marcus Curtius — A noble Roman. 

A i lus and Prothus — Priests of Jupiter. 

Publius— Friend to Curtius. 

Lytebia — Daughter to Dailius. 

Scene — Borne. 



ACT I. 

Apartment in the Temple of Jupiter — Arch at 

Centre — Doors seen through the Arch. 

Dailius discovered. Enter Aulus. 



DCELIUS. 

The length'ning shadows tell the hour of prayer 
Will soon revisit us. Is all prepared 
For evening sacrifice ? — our altars heap'd 
With choicest fruits that frugal Earth provides, 
To pay her children's labor ? — For this night, 
That finds our city bathed in quietness 
So perfect, asks a bloodless offering. 

AULUS. 

All is prepared. Each shrine is decked for 

service ; — 
Yet I had thought, upon these festivals, 
When men have clamor 1 d the high praise of Jove, 
For hours in his temple, 't was our custom 



8 LYTERIA : 

To leave unsaid the private ritual, 
Which days of quiet pay the setting sun. 
Thine age demands a season of repose, 
After the tedious rites of sacrifice 
But now concluded. 

DffiLIUS. 

The eternal Powers, 
By whom we are created, fed, and bless'd, 
May justly claim each moment they bestow. 
The longest ]if e of man is all too short 
To utter his thanksgiving for that word 
Which called him out of nothing, and bestow'd 
Capacity to taste celestial joys, 
That, sometime, in this tenement of flesh, 
Shadow the great hereafter of our hope. 
No, Aulus ! while this frame (unbent by time) 
Can serve before the altar, be assured 
That each awakening morn and closing eve 
Shall find me prostrate to adore the Gods, — 
Whose blessings shower'd upon my latter years, 
Are concentrate in one rich gift — My Child. 

AULUS. 

Yes ! Well may'st thou be thankful that a. form 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 9 

Of such perfection, is but dwelling meet 

For the fair spirit that inhabits it ; — 

While to our sacred caste, from which the state 

Takes the blest influence of domestic ties, 

The presence of Lyteria in the temple, 

Stands forth a fair embodiment to sense, 

Of the pure love and pitying charity, 

With which we trust the pard'ning Gods behold 

The weakness of their servants. 

DCELIUS. 

Her clear soul 
Has been my chiefest comfort, since, preferr'd 
From the rough trade of arms, I chose this place 
To wait life's solemn issue ; — And I think 
She shall be call'd to show w T hat virtue gives 
The fellowship of those, whose sober office 
Best may instruct the mind to follow Truth 
Undoubting. She, who died in giving me 
This trust, declared by that strange inspiration, 
Which sometimes speaks, ere the last thread is 

broke, 
'That this our child should be reserved by Jove 
For some great service. Thus, her soul received 



10 LYTERIA : 

Sweet consolation for the prayer denied — 
That life's last pains should give a son to Rome. 
But, Aulus, now no praise of our loved child, 
For I must hear no more upon a theme 
That never yet was tedious. 

AULUS. 

Must I then 
Believe thy shrinking movement to imply 
A knowledge — a suspicion — a vague fear — 
That we thy underlings in silence share, 
Not daring to becloud the father's heart 
With our too ready fancies. All our priests 
Are fool'd, to think thy observation dull 
To that sad change that must concern thee most. 
Yes! — thou hast mark'd the maiden's downcast 

brow — 
Her thoughtful visage, shrinking from the light 
That flashes strangely from her speaking eye: — 
Thou learn'st with us, to deem the hour accurst, 
When, at the Consul's order, we received 
A noble student in this sacred fane. — 
Perish the day when our unwilling gates 
Admitted Marcus Curtius! 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 11 

DGELIUS. 

Nay ! — Enough ! 
At seeming evil man should not repine, 
Since there may lurk a blessing undeserved, 
'Neath its dark mantle. Yet, if 'tis decreed 
That some great trial mark my close of life, 
I feel, the humble minister of heaven 
Should not lack strength to bear its chastise- 
ment. 
Still am I bless'd ; secure that no reproach 
Can ever sully the pure soul of her, 
Whose nature, all unselfish, scarcely knows 
A struggle in the sacrifice of aught 
That men hold dearest ; and whose simple heart, 
Warmed by divine affection, finds its peace 
In the prime duty of religion — Prayer. 

AULUS. 

Well may'st thou trust the nurture of the Child 
Will triumph in the Woman. We but fear'd 
No change could bring more happiness to one, 
Whose every moment seemed a quiet joy. 
Yet if young Curtius, upon whom descend 
The wealth, hopes, and ambition of a house, 



12 LYTERIA : 

The noblest in our city — should he be 
Allow'd to wed Lyteria — 

D03LIUS. 

Thou speak'st 
The single doubt that weighs upon my soul. 
'Tis most unlike, the Consul Lucius, 
The guardian of Marcus, the tried friend 
And kinsman of his father, should forget 
The claims of station, family, and wealth, 
By favoring a marriage, so removed 
From all the circumstance of birth and dower, 
That such high state and generous service ask. 
Yet, if some unforeseen or strange event 
Could sanctify this union, I must own 
There is no man more worthy the pure love 
A maiden's heart can offer, than this Curtius. 
His earliest youth was given to pursuits 
That have enlarged the patriotic zeal, 
And soldier's hardness he inherited. 
Yet when our legions with late conquest flush'd, 
Return'd to riot and corrupt discourse — 
Our valiant Curtius, upon whom the state 
Lavished her proudest honors, putting off 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 13 

The batter'd helmet and the well-worn sword, 
Came to this temple, in such modest garb 
As fits the humble student of the Truth, 
Reveal' d to earth through Heaven's ministers. 

AULUS. 

Should he deserve thy praise, be well assured 
He will break through all barriers that the world 
May place between Lyteria and his love. 

DCELIUS. 

Yet it would show most foully in ourselves 
To countenance a marriage, which must bring 
Disgrace upon this temple, if unknown 
To Lucius, our great Patron. Every claim 
Of honor we must grant, through any cost 
Of private sacrifice. And now, 't is right 
Our daughter should be warn'd of this resolve, — 
And Marcus hinder'd for some little time 
From entering our portals. These two duties 
(The first most harrowing to a father's heart) 
Must be accomplish'd ere the risen moon 
Shall be reflected in old Tiber's waves. 
Summon Lyteria to me : — The first task 



14 LYTERTA : 

Should be the hardest ; I will speak to her — 
And after, warn the guardian of the youth, 
Whose presence has so broken the repose 
That should possess this temple. 

AULUS. 

Yet observe 
How hastily the Consul's officer 
Presses through yonder court : 'Tis like he comes 
Charged with some sudden order of his master. 
{Enter Messenger.) 

MESSENGER. 

Lucius sends greeting to the priests of Jove, 
And craves some present conference with their 

Chief. 
Before the hour of evening sacrifice, 
He will seek Dcelius in this place, alone. 

DCELIUS. 

I shall await his visit. 

[Exit Messenger. 
Now behold, 
How some kind fate appears to aid the task 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 15 

Allotted to my age. The worst must soon 
Be over. Even now soft echoes, waked 
By a light footstep, tell the near approach 
Of her, whose coming brings for the first time 
No thrill of happiness. Leave us together, — 
But when the final beam of tired Day, 
Gilding the antique shield suspended near 
The statue of the Warrior Deity, 
Shall mark the hour for worship, — summon me 
To join the evening service. I shall need 
The calming rites of sacrifice and prayer. 

AULUS. 

I shall obey these orders ; well assured 
That out of every trouble peace may come, 
To those who nobly bear life's discipline. 

[Exit Aulus. 

DC3LIUS. 

'T is a harsh duty ! How can I dispel 
This dear delusion that has thrill'd a soul 
With the deep joy of passion ! 
Vain — vain, for man to quench the heaven-lit 
flame, 



16 LYTERIA: 

In whose warm glow the Gods permit our hearts 
To taste celestial pleasure! Give me strength — 
Strength — to assail the life where most I live. 

(Enter Lyteria.) 

LYTERIA. 

Alone, dear father ! Of the eager throng 
Of priests and nobles, that so lately stood 
To see this day's great service, has not one 
Remain'd, — not one, to bear thee company? 

DCELIUS. 

Nay, thou must know, Lyteria, there are times 
When the exalted soul craves solitude. 

LYTERIA. 

I have well known such seasons; — when the 

mind, 
Kenned and loosen'd from the earthly tie, 
Which binds its essence to material form, 
Finds human sympathy far, far below 
The sphere where it inhabits. 
Then, we must seek communion with bright 

things 
That ever float about us. Unperceived, 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 17 

These phantoms are to this, our mortal sight ; 
But their sweet presence, mocking aid from 

sense, 
Inspires the doubting soul with trust divine. 

DCELIUS. 

Happy the breast whose consciousness is fill'd 
With such fair images! May thy young heart 
Cleave only to such fancies. Let thy love 
Exhaust itself on nature's endless form. 
Impose no hope on aught within the pale 
Of this most narrow being ; so shall a state, 
The happiest humanity can know, 
Be given for thy portion. 

LYTERIA. 

Thou art wrong, 
Father ; thou canst not trust the words thy lips 
Have used. Our life sometimes denies our 

speech. 
All the delight that contemplation gives, 
Each joy afforded by the natural world, 
Shows a dim vision of one perfect bliss, 
That is our heritage. My heart has leap'd 
To see the untired Phoebus coming forth 
2 



18 LYTERIA : 

To work his daily miracle — I knew 

An awful pleasure, when the crashing bolt 

Told men the wrath of Jove — the glorious 

Arch, 
That spann'd the clearing sky — the deep repose 
Of the moon-silver'd lake — the thousand notes 
That swell the song of spring — all these have 

charm'd 
My growing spirit: — Yet I late have learn'd 
How mortal is such pleasure, when compared 
With the great presence of that ecstasy, 
Which frees our being from the cell of self, 
And joineth soul to soul. 

DffiLIUS. 

I must be plain, 
Since craft of speech ill suits the warning voice, 
That nature utters through a parent's lips. 
There is no bliss that man should not resign, 
W T hen Heaven demands the favor it has lent. 
That silence, so long kept between us, child, 
Finds here an end. This daily intercourse, 
With one whom place and rank hold from the 
choice, 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 19 

Where young affection points, must cease at 

once. 
When at the hour of sunset, our huge gates 
Swing harshly on their hinges, they must close 
For the last time on Curtius : And I warn thee, 
By the strong interest that makes thy peace 
Far dearer than mine own, dismiss this man 
Forever from thy thought. 

LYTERIA. 

Father, — thou know'st 
That I have ever loved thee ; ever watched 
To do thy slightest pleasure. Now a power 
That I may not resist forbids obedience. 
All my existence is so bound with his, 
Whose love paints life like some rare festival, 
That separation would but cause the soul 
To break this feeble fetter of dull earth, 
And wander forth to seek his company. 

DGELIUS. 

Thou show'st, my daughter, that rebellious will 
Which cleaves to our base nature ; strongest 

ever 
When our desire must never be attain'd. 



20 LYTERIA : 

LYTERIA. 

Nay, let us think that nature's noblest strength 
Is only waked by trial ; thal^ Devotion, 
Unknown save to its object, may be shown 
Before the world, and conquer every doubt 
That shadows what we are. ■ 

DffiLIUS. 

My words have been 
In kindness ; that thy heart (our purpose known) 
May seem to offer freely the release, 
That else must be compell'd. 

LYTERIA. 

No human power 
Can separate the souls that fly together 
By sacred impulse, and a law as fixed 
As that which holds night's burning fires in air, 
And brings to man their lustre. Our weak bonds 
Fetter in vain the hands of Destiny. 
For I have learn'd that pure and holy love 
Is unextinguish'd by the chilling touch 
Of earth, which soon must cover our frail forms. 
But, if the soul continues to exist 
In a more glorious being, so shall those 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 21 

Affections which made up its life, increase 
To nobler fervor — Vows that here unite 
Two kindred hearts shall be preserved forever. 

DCELIUS. 

Enough: — my cruel duty is discharged. 
The task that yet remains must be perform'd 
By stronger hands than mine. 

The eastern gates 
Admit some strangers — Yes ! the Consul comes, 
Surrounded by his household officers ; 
J Tis as I fear'd — He brings no comfort here! 

LYTERIA. 

He does — he does — for Curtius follows him! 
[Enter Lucius and officers. Lucius salutes 
DgbUus, and they pass through the Arch at 
centre in conversation. Curtius comes for- 
ward to meet Lyteria. 

CURTIUS. 

The closing day reserves its richest gift 
To crown the final hour. This evening meeting, 
Long'd for through all the feasts and sacred rites 
To-day has witness'd, now appears a joy 



22 LYTERIA : 

Deeper than dreams can bring us. Few awake 
To find the fair imaginings of night, 
Endow'd with substance at the touch of Day. 

LYTERIA. 

I do return thy greeting ; and confess 
My heart is stirr'd with a divine emotion, 
As these fond eyes again are fill'd with thee. 
Yes! There may be all human bars between 

us — 
"Wealth, rank, the world, the will and chains of 

power — 
But there can be no longer that Abyss, 
Whose blackness, ere our mutual love was 

known, 
Kept us divided. 

CURTIUS. 

We need have no fear, 
That any cloud is lowering above. 
This day I have revealed my dearest wish 
To Lucius; who, with a father's power, 
Unites a father's kindly interest, 
In all I have at heart. We shall be join'd 
With his approval, and thy gentle soul, 
Purer than mine, shall ever bear it up, 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 23 

E'en as the smoke of sacrifice ascends 
Freighted with prayer to Jove. 

LYTERIA. 

So may it prove ! 
And yet there is a something whispers here, 
That warns me of a dark and trying time, 
That lowers in the future — No, 't is not 
The mocking trick of Fancy, — for last night, 
While sleep restored the body, I beheld, 
Robed in celestial beauty, a bright form 
That smiled upon me sadly, and breath'd forth 
Words, whose clear utterance thrills my waking 

sense, 
As I recall them : — 

" Daughter, do not shrink 
From any grief the Right may offer thee : — 
A perfect love is ready to resign 
Its object, vjhen that object's truest fame 
Demands a sacrifice so terrible." 

CURTIUS. 

Why, what a curse were our existence here, 
If the distorted visions of the night 
Reveal' d our future ! 



24 LYTERIA : 

LYTERIA. 

Yet some seasons come 
To every life, when the dark veil is lifted ; 
When we behold things, which shall be here- 
after, — 
And thus receive warning, impression, counsel, 
Not brought through avenues of mortal sense. 

CURTIUS. 

Think only of the present, which appears 
So prodigal in blessing. 

LYTERIA. 

Know'st thou all ! 
My father has declared against our union, 
And asks a resignation of that love, 
I pray each hour to make more wholly mine. 

CURTIUS. 

I will not question that thy soul disdains 
Submission to such order ! 

LYTERIA. 

For thy success, 
Or thy true glory, I could yield all claim. 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 25 

But for another cause, never — Oh, never! 
{Enter Lucius and Daslius.) 

LUCIUS. 

Nor shalt thou, Maiden, for the heavens smile 

On such devotion, and no act of mine 

Shall thwart their higher pleasure. Rome has 

heard 
Thy judgment, Marcus, much approved of late 
In gravest matters — and we trust it here. 
Receive the sanction of thy father's friend, 
"Who willingly resigns those final trusts, 
Placed in his hands, to shackle at the need 
Youth's hot intemperance. Fortune is thine ; 
And that high place in the regard of men, 
More to be coveted. A deathless fame 
May be thy future portion, if found true 
To the fair promise of thy early days. — 
And for you, lady, see you bear yourself 
Worthy a Roman wife. Let no weak love 
Restrain our Marcus from those stony paths, 
That men must tread to glory. Make thy praise 
Ever his great incentive to those deeds, 
Which best become his place and family. 



26 LYTERIA : 

CURTIUS. 

No doubt can rest on her; — and my own life 
Shall speak the value of the priceless gift, 
I here do swear to cherish. 

LUCIUS. 

Dcelius, yield 
A tardy sanction to thy daughter's choice. 
Lyteria fears her father's chiding voice, 
Alone may mar this hour of happiness. 

DCELIUS. 

Jove's blessing be upon thee, dearest child, 
And keep thee to his service ! So shall He 
Enrich the parent heart which now is call'd 
To yield its nearest trust. When late we parted. 
I used the words that duty seem'd to prompt. 
The Consul Lucius (so I truly thought) 
Would ask a proud alliance for the youth, 
His care had rear'd to service of such honor. 
But since his presence dissipates this doubt, 
I here do give thee freely that poor leave, 
Which only sternest duty held before. 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 27 

LYTERIA. 

Father, no new relation can absolve 
Thy child from filial piety and love. 
It still shall be my pleasure to support 
Thy failing steps, and gently ease the slope 
Toward nature's end, that none should tread 

alone. — 
My feeling, Sir, will not permit my lips 
To thank you as they ought. I rather stand 
Like the false virgin of Rome's early day, 
Bovv'd with the weight of gifts, the Heavens send 
In answer to my prayers. 

DCELIUS. 

All thou should'st say, 
I have endeavor'd to interpret here. 
Our guest is recompensed in joy bestow'd ; 
The same reward that blesses the kind Gods 
For all their favors. Yet I marvel much 
What feeling prompted such a generous deed, 
Not tending to the haughty interest 
Of your patrician rank. 

LUCIUS. 

To answer that, 



28 LYTERIA : 

Recalls a memory, the stricken heart 
Has silently endured. Labor and Time, 
Our griefs great comforters, can never heal 
The burning wound from whence — when early 

love 
Is crush'd by Power, and trampled to the dust — 
Ebbs daily our best life. I have done service 
To this great city ; and the world has hail'd 
My progress, as I walked the dangerous path, 
Trodden by those who covet its applause — 
Yet, I have borne about me a great void, 
„That no distinction, no success can fill. — 
But this dark grief has taught me to respect 
Another's joy ; and never to incur 
The wrath of heaven, by sundering young hearts, 
Whom power divine impels to seek each other. 

DGELTUS. 

Our best instructions oft are found in strokes, 
That torture as they teach. By such dark ways 
The light of knowledge surely is reveal'd 
To the truth-craving soul. Thou see'st yon shield 
Already gilt with the last beam of day, — 
Even so the night that comes upon our hopes, 
Shall make our lives display some kindly deed, 






A DRAMATIC POEM. 2d 

That the high noon of bliss had never brought. 

LYTERIA. 

If through our woes some thankfulness should 

shine, 
Must we not, wrapt in blessing, recognize 
The favors Heaven hath lately dealt to us ? 

DCELIUS. 

We are reminded well : The wonted time 
Of evening adoration is at hand — 
Our priests approach to service : May our hearts 
Replete with gratitude, breathe earnest prayer. 

[Doors at the back are thrown open. An altar 
is discovered. Aulus and other priests enter.] 

The Act closes. 



30 LYTERIA : 



ACT II. 

A public square before the Temple of Jupiter — 
Enter Aldus from the temple, meeting- Prothus. 



AULUS. 

Welcome, good Prothus! Blessed be the god, 
Who to this needy fane returns thy steps. 

PROTHUS. 

A power divine indeed has led me back; — 

For by those natural warnings, which the skilled 

May read to their great profit, I perceived 

A sudden call for my poor ministration, 

Before these altars hallow'd by the past. 

Moved by such mystic impulse to resign 

The quiet country, — where my wish had been 

To waste some days inactive, — I have come 

Eager to take the duty fate assigns. 

And now, I pray thee, Aulus, quickly say, 

What great event has hither beckon'd me? 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 31 

This spacious place, traffic's accustom'd mart, 
Is clothed in silence. At the outer gate 
The watchmen glared upon me as I pass'd, 
And bid me turn from the devoted city. 
No busy hum in the frequented street, 
Stifled the frighten'd echo. Haggard men, — 
Tutor'd to bear in Penury's hard school, — 
Whose only roof has been the heavy clouds, 
That yet are fixed above us, scream'd that Jove 
Waken'd to wrath, would crush the guilty earth, 
And hurl it back to chaos. Speak at once, 
What panic frenzies Rome ? What cause in- 
spires 
Language so fraught with terror ? 

AULUS. 

Alas! The secret cause of wrath divine 
Is only uttered by inspired lips, 
Through which the god breathes darkly his be- 
hest. 
Already messengers despatched at dawn, 
Haste to the favor'd oracle, where Jove 
Reveals his awful will : at their return 
A solemn sacrifice must be perform'd 
In our own temple ; when our priests shall learn 



32 LYTERIA : 

What expiation Heaven will accept, 
To free the city from this chastisement. 

PROTHUS. 

May some atonement, to avert the doom 

I gather from thy words, be granted us ! 

Now, speak the grief that weighs thy spirit 

down : — 
The power of Evil which assails man's life 
Hath put on some strange aspect ; yet the grief 
Of each hot shaft, wing'd through the constant 

strife, 
Is something sooth'd by friendly sympathy. 

AULUS. 

The greatest sorrow needs the smallest speech 
In its rehearsal. Briefly then — Last night, 
While certain of our priests linger'd to hear 
Of the approaching marriage, which our chief 
Shall shortly consecrate between young Marcus, 
And the dear maid, whose presence melts the 

chill 
Which often rests upon devotion's shrine, — 
While, as I say, we stood in eager talk, 
The silver beam that Cynthia's crescent shot 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 33 

Upon the pavement, changed to lurid red; — 
Yon massive walls were heaved this way and 

that, 
Until the rocking floor threw on their knees 
All waiting in the temple ; — as to show 
That on the prayers her priests should offer 

Heaven, 
Hung "Rome's sole hope of pardon. Then, there 

came 
A prodigy more dreadful. The bright shield 
Our fathers fixed, a votive gift before 
His imaged form, who gave their wars success, — 
Leap'd from its place, and striking at our feet 
Shiver'd in ringing fragments ! 



PROTHUS. 



A sure sisfn.. 



As our best Augurs ever have declared, 
To warn the city of impending ill. 
After this prodigy, did stillness reign ? 



AULUS. 

A calm succeeded; — yet the clouds, whose pall 
Still presses on us, hid the lighted Arch. 
3 



•34 LYTERIA : 

The heavy breeze, muffled with sulphurous 

smoke, 
Brought distant voices; — Terror's piercing cry- 
More and more keenly rent the startled air, — 
Till soon a noisy crowd, beating our gates, 
Called Doelius forth to quiet their dismay, 
With words of manly calmness. Then we learnt 
How great convulsion tore the heart of Rome, 
And with its awful signet, stamp'd our world. 
The unknown force that rocked our trembling 

walls, 
Had spent its fury near the Capitol: — 
With startling might, it rent Earth's flinty breast, 
And ere the frighten'd watchers could express 
Their wonder by an utter'd syllable, 
There yawn'd, e'en at their feet, a gulf profound ; 
W 7 hile falling arch and palace shook the earth 
With massive fragments. Yet I have declared 
The smallest part of Rome's calamity. 
For, from the dark abyss, whose gaping mouth 
No human power may fill, a vapor thick 
With deadly pestilence, blights those poor homes, 
Which Ruin, satiate with man's proud works, 
Left unmolested. To abate this plague 
We wait in fear the Oracle's response ; 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 35 

Firmly resolved to gain the heavenly grace, 
By any means that grace may furnish us. 

PROTHUS. 

Now, I perceive, men have good cause to leave 
Their daily business, and besiege each shrine 
With penitential offering. May the Gods 
Who so afflict us, moved by earnest prayer, 
Declare what expiation Rome may give, 
To win again their smile ! Yet 'mid this grief 
Did I not hear one blessing all may share ? 
This marriage — Have I understood thy words? 
Shall the fair dawn of promise flush the cheek 
Of our loved inmate? 

AULUS. 

'T is a joy that glows 
Through darkness such as this. No cruel fate 
Limits young passion, that may now invest 
Its dreams and hopes with substance. Yet we see 
Those patient services remember'd still, 
To which Devotion gave Lyteria's youth. 
For in the midst of Pestilence she stands, 
With woman's tenderness to ease the ctfuch, 
Where dying lips first murmur with a prayer. 



36 LYTERIA : 

To the departing soul, her presence seems 
Fit comrade for earth's past inhabitants, 
Who, purged from mortal weakness, shall receive 
The spirit newly ransom'd from its bonds, — 
And bear it up enlighten'd. 

PROTHUS. 

But alone 
She cannot watch in the dark house of death. 
Surely, young Curtius waits with zealous care 
To shield, with love's protection, the frail form 
Encompass' d by such peril ? 

AULUS. 

'Twas his prayer, 
Earnest and oft repeated, to decline 
The offered mission to the Oracle, 
And to attend with her the sad abodes, 
Where 'custom'd duty beckon'd. But the maid 
Claim'd his permission to discharge alone 
Her wonted charity; — bidding him speed 
With other nobles, to the shrine where Jove 
Speaks through his chosen agent. "'Tis the 

Right 
That now divides us," ('twas her parting word) 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 37 

" You go in pomp, the state's ambassador, 
I, as the humble almoner through whom 
Some higher spirit may impart its grace; — 
Our duties, different in the eye of man, 
Shall be of equal merit, if perform'd 
With constancy, high purpose, and such strength, 
As Heaven may send to aid our feebleness." 
(Enter Dcelius from the Temple.) 

DCELIUS. 

Why stand ye here in idle conference ? 

Is it not known the messengers approach, 

Bearing the sentence of the Oracle? 

The Consul and our gravest citizens, 

Are waiting to commence those solemn rites, 

Which shall precede the reading of the words, 

On which our lives must hang. Haste to your 

place. 
Prepare the sacred vessels ; deck the shrines ; 
Lead forth the victims, and make all things fit; 
While I, as is our custom, waiting here, 
Receive the bearers of the great response, 
And lead them to our Temple ; haste, for time 
Rears heavily upon us. 

f Exeunt Aldus and Prothus, 



88 LYTER1A : 

DCELIUS. 

How few hours, 
Since all about this place were wrapp'd in peace; 
And I, replete with calmness, as serene 
As the smooth surface of the smiling sea, 
Before some wrecking tempest ! Trouble came 
With great convulsion ; and some mightier throe 
I doubt, must end it. May the bolt strike here ! 
Here — in this breast, before it touches hearts, 
Whom the strong cords of love and earnest hope, 
Bind firmly to the earth. 

The measured step, 
And plaintive chant, that fills the neighboring 

street, 
Announce our mission ended. 

[Enter Curtius and the Messengers?) 

Welcome, friends! 
The hurried breath, flushed cheek, and travell'd 

mien, 
Witness your zeal towards Rome. Breathe for 

an instant; — 
Then ye shall tell the eager throng within, 
What message is vouchsafed to comfort us. 

CURTIUS. 

Has she return'd ? 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 39 

DCELIUS. 

Not yet; — but I have sent 
To bid her leave that pious exercise, 
Now fraught with so much danger. 

CURTIUS. 

Danger! yes, — 
Full well I know the peril ; and would bid 
Thy child brave all — all, but the wasting sense 
Of duty's call unanswer'd — to escape 
Such fearful service ; but in case like this, 
Her impulse, more exalted than my will, 
Demands submission. 

DCELIUS. 

From her earliest youth, 
Such painful charities Lyteria chose 
To earn the right to live. 'Twas thus she 

drown'd 
The constant question that our being asks, — 
"What purpose is accomplish'd in thy life?" 

CURTIUS. 

Oh, could I share this labor, I would ask 
For her no respite: — But she only sees 
The dart that Peril wings to other breasts. 



40 LYTERIA : 

With an authority, and pleading love, 

That man may not resist, still she commands 

My absence from her danger. 

DCELIUS. 

Thou art tried 
In this obedience, though 'tis well enforced. 
For by some hidden grace which Nature gives, 
(Showing what duties she should undertake) 
A fragile woman oft may stand unharm'd, 
Where at each breath, air-tainting pestilence 
Strikes giants to the earth. The Gods assign 
To each, the part best fitted to the strength 
Bestow'd by Nature : to the lusty arm, 
Nerved by such mountain air and simple food, 
As sicken pamper'd Ease, the work is given 
To win the riches that the frugal earth 
Hides in her bosom. From the cultured mind, 
Rich in experience, mankind should draw 
Lessons of wisdom ; while those gentle souls, 
In whom affection blossoms, still dispense 
Their fragrance to a world that little recks 
From whence the sweetness flows. But hardest 

tasks 
Are kept for such true heroes, as outstrip 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 41 

Their halting generation; — whose great lives 
Old Time shall gently nestle to his breast, 
And so bear on forever. 

CURTIUS. 

My spirit burns to hear devoted deeds 
That human will has compass'd ; and I pray 
That some great service may demand my aid: 
So that my name, absolved from fate's decree, 
Shall be untouched by the sad law of Earth, 
Which blots from memory the life of man, 
Before the grave's decay and wasting worm 
Consume his mortal dwelling. 

DCELIUS. 

Wish for nothing — 
Man cannot tell where his advantage lies. 
Our humblest duties oft are surer steps 
To self-content and honor, than proud heights 
Where some rare chance may place us. I have 

seen 
The tortoise, toiling 'neath his cumbrous roof, 
Snatched from his fellows by some hungry bird. 
Aloft he soars ; till Phoebus' panting steeds 
Draw their bright burden upward from the west, 



42 LYTERIA : 

To gild his spotted armor; — now the earth 
Distant, shows meanly ; and the pure, dry air 
Plays pleasantly about him, as the fowl 
Halts in her quick ascent ; — short is the triumph : 
For rushing winds, that every moment cut 
More keenly, tell the frightful speed that hurls 
The creeping beast to ruin. Now the rock 
Leaps to receive him; while his feather'd foe, 
Whose lusty wings gave this bright eminence, 
With eager shriek invites some distant mate 
To share the quivering feast. By this be warn'd: 
For every height on Fortune's dangerous steep, 
Which men attain by outward circumstance, — 
Lacking the native grace for such renown, — 
Serves but to lengthen out their cruel fate, 
When some stern trial, greater than their strength, 
Shall dash them to the earth. 

CURTIUS. 

Thy prudent years 
Have never yet lacked specious argument, 
To thwart the craving for brave deeds, that burns 
In younger hearts, whose native ardor feels 
That Heaven asks action, — stern, heroic strife, 
As usance due on this great debt of being. 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 43 

DGELIUS. 

Yet constant effort bravely to discharge 
Some humble labor, brings a peace more calm, 
Than the brief plaudits of a gaping world. 
Freedom to choose, with will sick and infirm — 
This is the drug, whose presence poisons oft 
The brimming cup that Fortune offers him, 
Men call her favorite. See thy peril there. 
Chance and young courage have advanced thy 

state 
Beyond the 'custom'd mark. A higher place 
May yet await thee ; which to fill, requires 
Promptness in judging where thy duty points, 
"With self-control to sink all selfish ends 
To aid the general profit. 

Now, enough 
Upon this theme ; for it is time to read 
The Oracle's response. Enter the temple, 
Brothers, and fulfil your sacred mission. 

[Exeunt Daelius and Messengers. 

CURTIUS. 

Why stand I here debating with my thought, 
What noble deed demands my energy ? 
Why envy those apprenticed to some craft, 



44 LYTERIA : 

Which satisfies the soul's demand for toil ? 
"Wisdom but heralds sorrow ; — since we know 
The lofty ends our being should attain, 
Though chain'd by feeling, habit, or by sloth, 
To self's cramp'd dungeon; and condemn'd to 

peer 
Through the strong grating which our passions 

forge, 
To keep us prisoners from the cheerful world 
Our fancy pictures ! Oh, for some task pre- 

scrib'd ! 
Would that some path, clearly defined, though 

steep, 
And hedged with brambles, open'd to my steps ! 
Then, might I win the brightest prize of earth, 
The sense of holding claim to that deep love, 
Pour'd from a woman's heart. 

(Enter Lyteria.) 

The Gods be praised, 
Who graciously restore their borrow'd gem ! 
My joy to greet thee from the halls of death, 
Would glow in sorrow's drops ; but that to see 
Weakness made strength for deeds of charity, 
Must make our manhood firmer. Yet declare 
Thy safety. 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 45 

LYTERIA. 

Every power is concentrate 
In that one sense, that bears thy thrilling accents 
To my soul : The air, thus freighted, gives a life 
More dear, than winds, fresh from the open sea, 
Bring the close street crowded by misery. 
Yet tell me, Curtius, is it fit to leave, 
Even for time most brief, my chosen place ? 
For looking on such woe, who must not doubt 
The right to hold a moment's sympathy 
From the great sum of human wretchedness. 

CURTIUS. 

Thy debts are overpaid ; — Return no more, 
Lest the red hand of Plague, provoked too long, 
Clutch where I fear to think. 

LYTERIA. 

Could'st thou be moved 
By any selfish dread to leave the post 
Ordain'd by Heaven ? No ! — I know thee bet- 
ter ; — 
And will not think thou askest less devotion 
From the firm heart, affection seals to thine. 
Such aid as I can give, must be dispensed, 



46 LYTERIA : 

Till man shall learn how to assuage the wrath, 
Writ with such ghastly sign upon the earth. 
Sights have been seen, to move celestial minds, 
If their calm state is sway'd by human grief. 
The dull, cold eye, death's instant harbinger, 
Seems fixed upon me yet. The throes of 

Strength, 
Snatch'd rudely to the grasp of Pestilence — 
The wife — the mother — stricken at the time, 
When woman's care is man's sole comforter, — 
The helpless babe, drawing from nature's font 
Not nature's milk, but venom — these dread sights 
Weigh'd on my soul, yet did not crush its life. 
But as I gazed upon one last farewell, — 
Where youth, with cheek still crimson from the 

flush 
Of answer'd passion, fill'd with noble zeal 
To win earth's prizes — bent a glazing eye, 
For the last time, on one for whose dear sake 
He would be tied forever to the form, 
Her love had render'd precious — then it was 
A sudden horror seized me ; while I shrank 
From some dim shadow that seem'd floating 

past, 
Whose stubborn finger pointed to this scene, 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 47 

As something it would have me look upon. 
This awful presence chill'd my life's warm tide ; 
Yet now — how soon such mocking phantoms 

fade — 
Being again with thee. 

CURTIUS. 

Thou mayest well 
Despise such visions; for no future grief 
Can haunt us while united. 

LYTERIA. 

As the rough furrows that the tempest writes 
On some bleak battlement, make shelter'd nooks, 
Wherein the vine's green shoots may safely 

cling, 
So shall my soul be brought still closer thine, 
When Time's rude storms, that wear this outer 

frame, 
Open a nearer passage to thy heart. 

CURTIUS. 

So fair a plant demands the noblest life, 
In him bless'd by its fragrance. 



48 LYTERIA : 

LYTERIA. 

And unless 
All 'custom' d tokens which to Rome foretell 
Her coming heroes, mock us more than such 
Great portents have ere this deceived the skilled, 
Thou shalt stand forth chief in this generation. 
Nay, tell me not that I interpret wrong 
The people's voice, for, bruised 'neath such a 

blow, 
Some instinct shows a savior to the crowd. 
Just now a thousand voices call'd thy name, 
"When rumor'd wars startled the quiet street, 
And Rome would choose her captain. While I 

pass'd, 
Oar gravest senators stopp'd to salute 
The chosen bride of Curtius, whom they named 
The city's champion. An aged priest 
Whose spotless soul (so have the mass believed) 
Reflects the coming time, bid me deserve 
The choice of him, elected by the Gods 
To save us all from ruin. Have I not 
Reason to hold thy future fame most certain ? 

CURTIUS. 

So thou shalt point the way where honor lies, 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 49 

None but a craven would refuse to tread 

The roughest path, at whose extreme may glow 

The guerdon of thy smile. 

The op'ning gates 
Announce the city's comfort. See what joy 
Beams in the general visage. The response 
Has been most happy. 

(Enter Dcelius and Lucius from the Temple, fol- 
lowed by Priests and citizens.) 

DCELIUS. 

Jove be praised, my child, 
Who brings thee out of peril ! The stern need 
Of thy poor service presently shall cease, 
Through his great mercy ; for the priests declare 
An expiation, which shall free our lives 
From threatening danger. 

LYTERIA. 

Words are weak to thank 
The powers that stretch their mercy to fulfil 
What few had dared to hope. This lifted stroke. 
Must make our life's worst state an instant wear 
A lustre to its holder; while my sky 
Loses its only shadow. Say, what act 
4 



50 LYTERIA : 

Of expiation brings the world this peace ? 

DCELIUS. 

Thus from his holy shrine proclainrd the God. 
" The yawning' Earth will not be satisfied. 
Till she receive what is most prized of Rome, 
Into her hungry chasm" These few words 
Contain'd our Oracle. Yet, when with prayer, 
And grateful sacrifice, our messengers 
Begg'd further knowledge, thus it was vouchsaf d. 
" The treasure that Rome looks to, in her need, 
Shinethfar brighter to the public gaze, 
Than to his eye who holds it." 

LUCIUS. 

Soon shall Rome 
Be ransom'd from her present suffering: 
For Varrus nobly offers his rare gems, 
Bright tokens of ancestral dignity, 
As the prized tribute Heaven asks from man. 

D03LIUS. 

Should it not be our silver statue, clad 
By cunning art with Jove's own majesty, 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 51 

Which is demanded? This is valued more 
By those who serve within these courts, than 

pearls, 
Or all the brilliants ever brought to deck 
The feeble hand of Wealth. 

LUCIUS. 

Both shall be given, 
Lest either prove too small; and some rich treas- 
ure, 
Drawn from the public coffers, shall increase 
The offering demanded at our hands. 
So shall we merit Jove's returning smile 
By large obedience. 

And now so soon 
Must this affliction cease, we turn to business, 
Which the strange peril forced us to neglect: — 
Marcus, since War may call thee to the field, 
'Tis well to leave a faithful wife at Rome, 
Whose constant prayers may nerve her hero's arm 
To deeds of valor. 

Come to-morrow, friends, 
To this great temple, as the witnesses 
Of rites more joyful than this day has seen; 



52 LYTERIA : 

For two young hearts, here join'd by holiest ties, 
Shall bless each other. Doelius, prepare 
All needful things for this solemnity. 

DCELIUS. 

The orders of the Consul are received. 

CURTIUS. 

Sir, for these last dear words I can but feel, 
Not utter, gratitude. 

LUCIUS. 

See, Publius comes 
To interrupt such task; — or it may chance 
The news he bears gives thee a greater still. 
(Enter Publius.) 

PUBLIUS. 

The grateful tidings I am call'd to bring, 

Deserve a worthier herald. It is thought 

By Rome's most prudent nobles, that our foes, 

Who burn beneath their late discomfiture, 

Hearing what panic terrifies the mass, 

"Will rush upon our borders. Now, our legions, 

Fill'd with such desperate fury as invests 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 53 

Uncultured minds in great calamity, 
Call upon Curtius to command their force, 
And lead them on to battle ; while grave men 
Trust his known valor, thrice approved in war, 
And that paternal virtue, which descends 
Upon the heir of true Nobility. 
Marcus, I come thy suppliant. A place 
Beyond thy years, though not thy just deserts, 
Sues for acceptance. Nay, receive the trust, 
Nor question of thy fitness ; for thy skill, 
Quick honor, martial bearing and renown, 
Shine brightly in all eyes, except thine own. 

lyteria (aside). 
Is this an Echo ! 

CURTIUS. 

The great office, sir, 
Which our too partial citizens assign 
To one so little tried, demands some fear 
In its acceptance. I can only think 
How Jove selects the insubstantial cloud, 
From which to deal his lightning. 



54 LYTERIA : 

PUBLIUS. 

The hope waked 
By thy appointment, will make strong the arm 
Of manhood, and reflush the maiden's cheek, 
That pales at soldier's parting. Yet attend, 
For by still greater proof, I have to show 
The confidence thy courage gives our city. 
Know, I am charged to tender to thy use 
The antique steel, worn by our greatest chiefs. 
In Mars' own temple has this armor hung 
A score of years unbatter'd by the foe. 
Only Rome's truest sons must gird their limbs 
For battle, in such steel ; but thou, most prized 
Of Rome, may'st wear this honor'd mail unchal- 
leng'd. 

lyteria (aside). 
A son most prized of Rome ! — Why should these 

words 
In characters of fire seem writ before me? — 
Hence, horrible surmise! — for I have still 
The strength to cast thee from my shrinking soul. 
Down, ghastly thought, fiend-prompted to my 

breast! 
Leave me ! — It is my order ! 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 55 

LUCIUS. 

We receive 
In Marcus' name this token ; since the doubt 
Of his own claims to this great dignity- 
Must keep him silent. 

CURTIUS. 

Common phrase of thanks 
Would mock so rich a gift. Say to these friends, 
That, as I value favor in her sight 
Whom I shall wed to-morrow, I devote 
My life to serve the city, and deserve 
The confidence her children place in me. 

LUCIUS. 

Most happily these fortunes fall to us. 
Marcus shall take this armor of the priest, 
Before he clasp his bride ; showing the world 
His honor is more precious than his love. 

DC3LIUS. 

All thy advancement, Curtius, must reflect 
Some lustre on those friends whose early care 
Gave thy hot youth direction. Let their words 



56 LYTERIA : 

Still mingle with the witching notes of fame, 
That trumpet forth thy merit. 

CURTIUS. 

With this pledge, 
Given to recall thy teachings, they remain 
"When Time shall wipe all title coveted, 
And ancient lore from Memory's full page. 
One word from thee, Lyteria; — that my heart, 
Satiate with joy, may stifle its own bliss, 
And so make room for future happiness. 
Tell me that these great favors Rome bestows, 
Have brought thee pleasure. 

lyteria (aside). 

Oh ! assist me, Gods ! 
Lest my calm words, striving with dreadful doubt, 
Choke in their utterance. 

Marcus, all that brings 
Thee honor, shall awake my gratitude — 
Yet in this presence, feeling must be awed, 
And find few words to dress her thankfulness. 

Let me go in — for a dark faintness steals 
Over my spirit. Do not fear — It passes — 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 57 

And seems to draw all weakness from the mind, 
High purpose should inhabit. — Ha ! the cloud 
Returns; — but now shadows me tenderly. 
A moment in the cooler court within 
Will bring relief. Nay, follow not — 'Tis best 
I am alone. 

TJie Act closes. 



58 LYTERIA 



ACT III. 

The Temple of Jupiter — Lyteria discovered, 

LYTERIA. 

The noblest thing in Rome ! Why are these words 
Branded upon my spirit? Hath not Rome 
A medicine to heal the earth's scarr'd breast, 
Which asks the labor'd ore or burnish'd gem 
Drawn from itself, and worshipp'd with a zeal 
Due to the Gods alone! — 

The voice divine 
Demands a gift, prized in the public eye, 
More than in his to whom it doth belong. 
Jove's sacred semblance stands therein confess'd ; 
Holy to our poor vision ; but to His, 
To whom 't is dedicate, the grossest atom 
Of our dark earth shows with an equal lustre. 
For man's proud work, more meanly mocks His 

Than the poor taper, Phoebus' quick' ning beams. 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 59 

Bending in shame at this familiar altar, 

Let me implore forgiveness for a doubt 

Of Heaven's forbearance. Hence! thou dread 

surmise, 
That stabb'd my breast deeper than steel could 

reach ! 
Let me adore the mercy of the Gods, 
Who show how man may expiate his crimes, 
Ere they have scorch'd him into nothingness. 

Have I not heard a foot-step ! Aulus comes, 
To tell the consummation of our hopes! — 
The sound has ceased ; or lived but to my fancy. 
Ere this, some token of deliverance 
Should have been brought me. — 

Ha! These shouts are music ; 
For they arise from the Great "Warrior's temple, 
Where (after gifts had satisfied the earth) 
It was our nobles' purpose to equip 
My Curtius in his armor, ere he came 
To give me all himself. What! more applause 
Lavished on Marcus ! Rome's great heart is his ! 
My love has proudest sanction. Why does Joy 
Heap its rich treasures on a life so young, 



60 LYTERIA : 

While they whose years of sufferance earn such 

wealth 
Pass to the grave unheeded ? — 

Yes! at length, 
My promised messenger returns with tidings. 

(Enter Aulus.) 
The ransom is accepted ! Rome is saved ! — 
Stay not for form, — give air unto your news. 

AULUS. 

Breathe then, before I utter the sad tale 
That makes my message; for its terror strikes 
So nearly at the life, that the light air, 
Which now surrounds thy form, will seem op- 

press'd 
With poison. 

LYTERIA. 

" Poison ! " — « terror ! " — Words like these 
But little suit the people's joyful shout, 
That rings from yonder temple. The kind Gods, 
Appeased by man's submission, lift their frown 
From the scorch'd earth ! Our offerings are ac- 
cepted? 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 61 

AULUS. 

Alas ! the treasures pour'd into the gulf 
Have not fulfill'd the mystic words of fate, 
Which form'd our Oracle. 
With princely largess furnish'd by the State, 
And jewels, Varrus' generous hand supplied, — 
With treasures spoil'd from palace, and from 

fane, 
In vain we strove to gorge the gaping earth; — 
But still, the pit belch'd forth its poison'd vapor. 
Then, last of all, the Statue, (at whose shrine 
Tears, vows, and prayers of generations past 
Melted the Gods to pity,) with great force, 
Upheaved from its firm base, in the abyss 
With deaf ning crash descended. Shuddering, 
With fear the strange profanity we view'd, 
While Dcelius raised his voice in earnest prayer, 
Beseeching heaven's grace. But now the earth, 
Torn by some new convulsion, hurl'd our gifts 
Back on the trembling plain. Thus are our pains 
Rejected. 

LYTERIA. 

Yet these plaudits that arose 
But now, seem'd to express some sudden joy. 



62 LYTERIA I 

Go seek their meaning. Any passer-by 
Returning from the neighboring fane of Mars, 
Can give solution to this mystery. 

[Exit Aulas. 
My awful fancies clothe themselves in shape, — 
Collect, and form a substance palpable, 
That chills me with its shadow. — 'T is a thought : 
And has not now existence so defined 
As the first breath that parts an infant's lips ! — 
Fantastic possibilities of Woe 
Relieve the heart o'erburthen'd else, and crush'd, 
Beneath the mighty happiness of Love. — 
Depart, unnatural monster of my brain; 
And thou, dread thought, freeze in eternal silence. 
Come Night, and hold me in thy dark embrace ; 
Lest this unreal shape look forth at the eye, 
And palsy Rome with horror ! 

(Re-enter Aulus.) 

Whence arose 
This sudden clamor ? 

AULUS. 

It was from the square 
Before the temple, where the crowd bestow 
The armor upon Curtius : — The great noise 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 63 

Was gratulation at an omen sent ; — 
For when the priest advanced to take the casque, 
With which to crown the warrior — a flash 
Of lightning, darting from a cloud that sail'd 
Upon the Augurs' left, struck the bright steel, 
And at the feet of Curtius tore its way 
Through the unyielding earth : — And thus they 

read it, — 
" Heaven's own strength shall clothe the arm of 

Marcus, 
And bring confusion to the foes of Rome." 

LYTERIA. 

Who thus interprets ? 

AULUS. 

Dcelius, thy father. 

LYTERIA. 

Why, then, no doubt 'tis right: Who is so wise 
As Dcelius : who so pure — Jove would not 

blind 
His truest servant ; — still Doubt sways my spirit. 
Tell me, good Aulus, tell me, may not prayer, 



64 LYTERIA I 

Pour'd from thy pious lips, and from my sire's, 
Compel the heavens to show where safety lies ? 

AULUS. 

In patient waiting on the will divine, 

And still submission, prayer shows meetest now. 

LYTERIA. 

The order is obey'd, even to the letter; — 
For what has Rome more precious to bestow, 
Than the divine similitude of Jove ? 

aulus {after a pause). 
Dost ask that question? — Must I then reject 
A thought, that as those words fell from thy lips, 
Seem'd stamp'd by inspiration on my soul? — 
The cunning labor of man's hand is meet 
Oblation to be render' d to his fellow ; 
But to .Creative Essence we should yield 
What its own might has fashion'd: — Fruit and 

flowers, 
With blood of guiltless beast, in common times, 
May pay the service gratitude demands. 
Yet seasons come, when human lust and pride 
Blaspheme the patient Gods, till waked to wrath, 



A DRAMATIC POEM. Q5 

They claim tremendous expiation. — Then, 
What the soul most clings to, must be given. 
Something, so dear and precious, that the heart, 
Torn at its loss, may pour its vital blood, — 
And haughty Will, slain on a living altar, 
Pay the sole tribute Heaven will accept. 

LYTERIA. 

Cease such mysterious words ; — for tho' I see 
Not all their meaning, yet I know they wrong 
The Gods we worship. Priests have slander'd oft 
The power they feign'd to reverence ! 

AULUS. 

Sometime 
'Tis so; — but now, an instinct tells my soul, 
That unto thee alone, of all our world, 
The Gods have shown their pleasure. Do not 

shrink — 
The secret is most safe, if thy wrought brain 
Unconsciously has printed it on mine. — 
The messenger is chosen ; — and my lips 
Are seal'd to silence : — yet most blind were we 
Not to perceive man's craft, or nature's wealth, 
5 



66 LYTERIA : 

Cannot elaborate that conscious self — 
The noblest offering we can render Heaven. 

LYTERIA. 

Hold, Aulus! — and beware that fatal pride, 
Most common to thy order ; — Do not take 
Thy own crude fancies for decrees of Heaven. 
Such great presumption, weighing down the 

mind, 
(Which piety and study else exalt) 
Poisons its teaching, and gives worldly men 
Much cause to jeer the ministers of Jove. 

AULUS. 

Unhappy maiden, whom stern fate elects 
To bear a grief beyond thy mortal strength, 
'Tis not for me to blame the desperate hope, 
That burthens human pride, with the clear beams 
Of knowledge, shot from heights whence Truth 

may shine 
"Without distortion. Every path, my child, 
Hath issue there. The common chance of life 
Metes out the truth in merciful allotments, 
As pain's rude buffets make the growing soul 
Strong to receive it. Yet 'tis sometimes sent 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 67 

In one short struggle, whence the youth may rise 
To wisdom more sublime, than the hard tasks 
Conn'd 'neath Time's discipline can bring our 
Age. 

LYTERIA. 

Such rude uplifting Heaven avert from me! 
With meek submission, rather let me seek 
To tread the teaching steps of those, whom nature 
Appoints my guides. 

AULUS. 

"When beckon' d to the sky, 
We may not choose the wings to bear us up. 
When priests and people read not fate's decree, 
When earth and sky are blank to asking eyes, 
There is a gentle voice, that to the soul 
Interprets Heaven's command. — Does no loved 

name 
Thrill with an awful whisper to thy soul, 
While Rome and her sad children, frantic ask 
Which way salvation comes ? 

LYTERIA. 

Aulus, no more ! — 
The Powers who show thee their august demand, 



68 LYTERIA : 

Would give support through human sympathy, 
To the great task they urge me to perform : 
For that I should be thankful; — but Despair, 
Who holds his lordly session in my breast, 
Will brook no gentler feeling. 

AULUS. 

The stern sense 
Of hardly purchased Right, exalts us more 
Than friendly pity, or the world's applause. 
Remember this : and know that Heaven supports 
The instrument it chooses. — Some one comes. 
Commune some lonely moments with thyself, 
And courage shall be given : for, holy maid, 
The Gods have chosen well; — thy innocence 
Is strength celestial; — thou shalt nobly triumph. 

LYTERIA. 

Yet, give me prayers — prayers — Aulus, lest I 

faint, — 
And so fail utterly. 

[Exit Lytcria. 

AULUS. 

Alas ! not less 
Rome shall require our prayers, if this young pair 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 69 

♦ 

Must perish for her sake. 

Strange! that so hard a task should be assign'd 
To instruments untried ; while those whose lives 
Have daily worshipp'd Jove are left untested. — 
How goes the day ? 

(Enter Prothus.) 

PROTHUS. 

The rites before the throng 
Conclude most happily. The well armed Curtius, 
Attended by the Consul and our priests, 
Comes to fulfil his marriage. But the bride — 
Should she not wait his coming ? 

AULUS. 

She left me 
Upon thy entrance. "When the time arrives, 
She will be ready. Have the people all 
This mien untroubled ? — Is the curse forgot 
That rests upon them ? 

PROTHUS. 

Yes; the fickle crowd, 
Drunken with show and noise, laugh in death's 
clutch, 



70 LTTERIA. 

And mock the wrath of Heaven ; yet such ap- 
plause 
But little suits with Dcelius' sad face, 
The grave demeanor of the thinking few, 
Or the stern frown that clouds the Consul's brow. 
(Enter Publius.) 

PUBLIUS. 

A new response the Oracle has given, 
Breathing some hope to Rome. These were the 

words — 
" The treasure Jove demands shall be reveaVd 
To the most valued inmate of his temple : " — 
Thus 'tis most like some priest shall be inspired 
To signify His will. 

PROTHUS. 

This seems like hope. — 
Have Dcelius and our nobles heard thy news ? 

PUBLIUS. 

I look'd to find them here. 

PROTHUS. 

They now approach. 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 71 

Come, we will meet them, and announce this 
message. 

Clouds, that now lift to us, should be dispell' d 

From those whom they oppress with equal sad- 
ness. 

This is the way — 

PUBLIUS. 

I follow willingly. 
[Exeunt Prothus and Publius. 

AULUS. 

This inward warning was not fancy's trick, 
But heaven-sent augury. To woman's strength 
A trial is assigned, that well might task 
Man's less enduring nature, to a point 
Beyond its sufferance. Yet can it be 
That she has trust and courage firm enough, 
For such supreme devotion ? Will not her lips, 
Glued by a human weakness, fail to speak 
The whisper'd words of Heaven? 
(Re-enter Lyteria.) 

LYTERIA. 

Aulus ! — 



72 LYTERIA : 

AULUS. 

Returned so soon ! 

LYTERIA. 

So soon — Dost thou not know 
Life at some seasons keeps no pace with Time — 
Hearts may grow cold, and the quick blood of 

youth 
Lag with Eld's sluggish current through the veins, 
While the frail insect, born for one short day, 
Wakes its first poean for the gift of life : — 
Yes! I have learn'd the message Publius brought : 
Answer me not — for I have heard, but now, 
Teachings from tongues, more eloquent than 

thine — 
If I am proof to these, thy words are wasted. 

AULUS. 

Yes ! I believe thy counsel comes from Heaven — 
May it still wait upon thee, and reveal 
The shrouded love, that deals with man in sor- 
row; 
And may thy Faith still point thee to a time, 
When all that here is doubtful, or obscure, 
Shall be unriddled. 'Tis the only comfort 
Vouchsafed to human suffering. 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 73 

LYTERIA. 

Yet who, 
By wishing, can acquire a trust so strong, 
That the affections of earth's brightest hours 
Shall melt before it? Reason cannot give 
This confidence ; nor comes it from desire 
To pierce the gloom, and view the mighty Source 
Whence we proceed, and where our being tends. 
Such wisdom must be grafted on the heart, 
When first 'twas waked to life, or gently press'd 
Upon the soul, by friends who laid aside 
This mortal form to be more closely with us : — 
Are the gates op'ning? — Do I hear their hinges 
Utter a deep wail; — 
As conscious of the destiny of him 
Who enters to destruction ! 

AULUS. 

Thou'rt not deceived. 
Our friends already fill the inner court. 

LYTERIA. 

Tell them, I am prepared ; leave me an instant. 

[Exit Aulus. 



74 LYTERIA : 

Alone, a moment more — before the deed — 
And then — alone forever : — Mighty Gods, 
Raise and exalt me to my solemn work ; — 
Let my weak mind, sway'd by your higher wis- 
dom, 
Be moulded to your likeness : let me feel 
That human love but copies love divine 
In aiding general weal, through private grief. 

The time has come — His step, cumber'd with 

steel, 
Strikes heavily the earth, and dissipates 
All power ! — What price too great to hold him 

here ! — 
Here! to myself! What interest strong as 

mine ! — 
Cease, cruel Power, that prompts me to this deed ! 
Elect some higher agent. I am mortal ! 
(Enter Dcelius, Lucius, Publius, Curtius, and 
others.) 

D03LIUS. 

Thy message, Publius, comes most happily. 

We are not all deserted, if the Gods 

Shall deign to speak Rome's comfort by our lips. 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 75 

We wait their inspiration ; while with hearts 
Lighten'd of half their fear, we join this pair 
In marriage. Daughter ! thy pale cheek should 

show 
Some living color : cease to think of Rome 
For this one hour, when life's great epoch stands 
Athwart thy path. 

LYTERIA. 

Forgetfulness is not 
In mortal power : and wisely 't is denied ; — 
For who would not expunge joy's shadow'd trace, 
So those dark stains that mottle life to all, 
Might cease to haunt the memory. 

CURTIUS. 

Cans't thou 
Itemember aught save the rich blessings shower'd 
About our steps ? — the popular applause, — 
The favor of our worthiest citizens, — 
This honor'd mail by acclamation given ? — 
And now, more sweet than all, the rite that seals 
Thee mine forever, banishes all sense, 
All feeling, but of rapture ! 



76 LYTERIA : 

LYTERIA. 

As we deck 
The victims destined to our sacrifice, 
So fortune sometimes lends us every grace, 
When the great doom is nearest. Yet think not 
I would obscure the ruddy light that beams 
To thy fond hope. — Thus may it ever shine. 

CURTIUS. 

Thou must not think the lauding tongues of men, 
Who may to-morrow strain their throats to hail 
Some sycophantic knave, have satisfied 
My selfish craving; 'tis that the high place, 
Reach'd through their favor gives me power to 

serve 
The State, our parent, and to pay those dues 
Ow'd to our race, that have the power above 
All selfish joy to make us truly bless' d. 

LYTERIA. 

There spoke the noble spirit I have loved. 
Thou still wilt hold this truth e'en as thy life. — 

CURTIUS. 

Till death shall strike the reason from my brain, 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 77 

And quench the fire of conscience. 

AULUS. 

Approach the altar where thy father waits ; — 
After the rite there shall be time for converse. 

DGSLIUS. 

Ye now appear to consecrate your lives 

Each to the other ; — undertaking both 

The holiest, tenderest offices that man 

May render to his fellow. 

But 't is to be remember'd that each word, 

Each inarticulate thought, is register'd 

By witnesses unseen. So will the crime 

Glare to celestial vision, if firm will 

Be wanting to perform all that is promised. 

LUCIUS. 

How say you, Marcus, wilt thou take this maid? 
Art thou prepared to love and reverence 
Her woman's sense of justice, and the heart, 
More prone to sink expedience for the right, 
Than that which man must carry ? Hast thou 

purpose 
To listen to her words in hours of trial, — 



78 LYTERIA : 

When Heaven lends to those who love us best 
A truer sense than nature ever gives 
Our worldly instinct? Say, art thou prepared 
To make these promises ? 

CURTIUS. 

The privilege 
Of taking such blest vows, I count great cause 
Of gratitude. 

DCELIUS. 

Placing thy hand upon 
This altar, swear, that thou wilt strive to keep 
The promises impressed by solemn custom 
On all united by the marriage tie. — 

Now, daughter, listen what thy duties are : — 
'Tis thine to cultivate the gentler virtues, 
Which, drawing man towards the domestic 

hearth, 
Form his bestguard from ill. Strive to be cheerful. 
Never disposed to see the passing clouds, 
That discontent may find in any sky ; 
But let thy smile supply the suns of fortune, 
When screen'd by trouble. 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 79 

LUCIUS. 

Likewise be assured, 
That we possess no joy for private use ; 
But that mankind should share the gifts of 

Heaven, 
Whereof the few are chosen almoners. 
Show no weak love in seeking to detain 
Thy chief from dangerous honor; for thou 

know'st, 
That 'tis through private suffering the Gods 
Heap greatest favors on the multitude. 
In fine, be open ; utter fearlessly 
Whatever truth may urge. Obey the prompting 
Of thy most noble self. So shall thy love 
Point Curtius to renown. 

DffiLIUS. 

If thou art prepared 
To take these trusts, call the truth-loving Gods 
To witness it. 

LYTERIA. 

No trifling invocation 
Should ask such Presence; — let me give some 

moments 
To silent prayer, before an act so solemn. 



80 LYTERIA . 

DCELIUS. 

Upon this altar gently rest thy hand, — 
And when prepared, uplift it to the sky ; 
Praying the Gods, who register thine oath, 
May give thee strength to keep it. 
(Enter a Citizen.) 

Ha ! who breaks 
Our unconcluded service? 

CITIZEN.' 

Pardon, sir; — 
'Tis not my own desire that interrupts 
These sacred offices. The crowd without, 
Stricken with panic by a sudden wind, 
That bears the noxious vapor from the pit 
About this temple, thrust me to your presence, 
To learn if Jove has signified the means 
Of our deliverance — as we learn'd to hope. 

LYTERIA. 

Yes ! — The great inspiration in my breast 
Burning for utterance, makes its instrument 
Preeminent in knowledge, as in woe. 
The heaven-demanded gift no more is veil'd 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 81 

In doubtful language, but each index points 
Its stubborn finger where redemption lies. 

Father, and you, sir, who deserve that name 

From him who calls me wife, give me support 

In following your counsels. I have sworn, — 

If fate should offer me the bitter choice, — 

To hold the honor of the man I love 

Above all private feeling. Perjury 

To the high Gods ; distrust of him whose choice 

Hath touch'd a life with radiance, should not be 

The primal acts of union. — The demand 

Made by the Oracle I must expound, — 

And crushing nature, raise our prostrate Rome. 

Written on every hand, but strangely dark 
To our gross vision, the decrees of Jove 
Break on the soul, pall'd in the wonderment 
Of its own blindness. " The most precious gift " — 
Is not the breathing consciousness we hold 
As Heaven's choicest blessing, — Is not this, — 
A tribute worthier to appease its Source 
Than Labor's produce? What is ' prized of 
Rome ? ' 
6 



82 



LYTERIA : 



Have ye not heard the very pavement shout 
As Curtius trode the street? — Do ye not give 
The armor that he bears, — and in the ligh firing 
Foresee his coming fame ? — Must /repeat 
A name all Rome has clamor' d ! — 

Marcus Curtius, 
I, that should crown this day with Love's best 

gift, 
Now point the way to death. Glory has shone 
About thy brief career ; — no step of thine 
But left its trace of radiance ; — Thou alone, 
By modesty prevented as a shield, 
Hast walk'd unconscious : — I, in shade apart, 
Have seen the open Heavens beckon thee, — 
While Earth yearns for the last embrace of him, 
Whose place above is won. 

Now ! with one voice, 
Ye Romans, shout your safety; for I crave 
The poor approval custom gives brave deeds! — 
Yet first! break silence thou! of whose support 
It would be sin to doubt — Marcus, come hither! 
Fold me to thy heart — say, I have done well ! — 
Or else thy silence, drowns the thousand tongues 
That urged me to the deed ! — 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 83 



No word ! — No breath ! — 
st thou repel me, and these friends stand fix'd 
As statues to behold it! — Fool! to think 
The cunning Gods had yet no pang reserved ! — 
I had not look'd for this ! 

{She falls upon the pavement.) 



The Act closes 



S4 LYTERIA : 



ACT IV. 

A grove near the Temple. Publius and Aulus 
discovered. 

PUBLICS. 

The hidden meaning of the Oracle 

Was shown to thee, before those awful words 

Discovered it to Rome ? 

AULUS. 

The strife that rent 
Lyteria's soul, was figured in the mien, 
She could not all control. This show'd me first 
Where pointed Jove's requirement. But such 

strength 
I hardly deem'd could rule in woman's breast. 

PUBLIUS. 

Capacity to serve its high behest, 

Heaven measures not as we. Hath she put off 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 85 

The veil Oblivion lent, to wrap her nature 
From Sorrow's chilling touch ? 

AULUS. 

She wakes to life : 
Her spirit now informs the quicken'd flesh 
With suffering; yet no complaint is breath'd ; — 
No tear relieves the anguish of the soul; 
But calmness, not of earth, lights her clear brow, 
As if the heart nourish'd a grief too great, 
To show such sign as common trouble writes 
Upon the visage. Publius, you have watch'd 
The rip'ning strength of Curtius ; can he tread 
This short rough path to glory 1 

PUBLIUS. 

Who can judge, 
From any past experience of the power 
To meet such fearful trial ! He was brave, 
Noble and generous, when Rome claim'd less 
His aid, — but in the present case — 'tis Jove 
Who knows the issue. Still, he walks this grove 
With the quick stride that bore him from our 
sight, 



86 LYTERIA : 

After the broken rite. His face seems stamp'd 
With the hard lines of age ; his eye as fix'd 
As the blank orb that fails to light the stone, 
Which else would breathe as we. No word he 

speaks, 
But motions from his side all who approach 
With words of courage or of sympathy : — 
This have I heard, and now, compell'd thereto 
By those who love him most, I come to try 
If he will waste some speech upon a friend, 
He ever claim'd to value. 

AULUS. 

See — he comes : 

Such meetings ask no witness : I shall wait 

With others in the temple ; — doubting much 

If human strength can bear the awful end 

Fate thrusts upon him. 

[Exit Aulus. 
(Enter Cur tins.) 

PUBLIUS. 

I would greet thee, Marcus : 
Do not withdraw thy hand from him, whose lips 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 87 

Should not repeat the proofs of early love, 
That well may claim the privilege to soothe 
The troubles of thy heart, with sympathy. 

CURTIUS. 

No pity, Publius, — 't is but empty breath — 
No prompting — and no counsel — If my soul, 
Crush'd with its fetters, has not strength to break 
The heavy chain, that fate has cast about me — 
I must be ever bound — Nay, friend, no words — 
I best may bear my misery, — alone. 

PUBLIUS. 

Oh, not alone! for mortal grief unshared 
Hath keenest touch. If not to me, to friends 
Of better worth, relieve thy burthen'd heart: — 
To summon such, I gladly yield my claim. 

CURTIUS. 

Well, thou art right : — The truest friend to man 
Should be the wife, he chose from all the world. 
Send then Lyteria. Say, that I have ask'd 
A little speech with her : — This should suffice. 



88 LYTERIA : 

PUBLIUS. 

Most gladly is the office I would take 
Left to her lips, new-hallow'd by the touch 
Of messages celestial, — not alone 
Chosen to speak Heaven's judgment, but inform'd 
With the deep consolation love may shed 
Upon the mighty mysteries, which at times 
Press our cramp'd sense, until the ignorant mind, 
Sick'ning in blindness, wastes within its cell, 
Consum'd by its own hunger. She shall come 
To share thy grief, — if not to soften it. 

[Exit Publius. 

CURTIUS. 

Here let me wait her coming; — that the breeze, 
Caressing fitfully this glowing cheek, 
May cool the fever'd tide, that burns its passage. 
Let me forget what hopes the morning knew, 
And only feel this present wretchedness. 
Away, ye burning thoughts, that riot thus 
Through the hot brain ; like fiends who clothe 

themselves 
With living flesh, to play their ghastly antics ! 
She will not come ; she cannot face the husband, 
Doom'd by her lips, ere press'd with the first kiss 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 89 

Of wedded passion. Better keep the darkness 
She has embraced, than in the light of Heaven, 
To gaze upon the wreck of him, who seem'd 
Her dearest part of life. I have known those, 
Who scoffed at woman's feeling, boasting loud, 
That any specious flattery could win 
Her word-creating love. I little thought 
To blazon forth the truth of such coarse jests, — 
Urged to destruction by a syren voice, 
Whose music stole away all manly power 
To snare the victim surely. She is here! 
Unless the form, oft mirror'd in the eye, 
Still lingers to deceive. Strange to believe 
The dull reflection could survive the love 
That warm'd it into being. 

(Enter Lyteria.) 

Dost thou dare 
To visit me? — to answer thus my bidding? 

LYTERIA. 

Yes ! at thy will ; which when it speaks command, 

It is not less my duty to obey, 

Than when constraint by love, I could not 

choose 
But answer its behest, unbreath'd in words. 



90 LYTERIA : 

CURTIUS. 

The service will be brief, prompted by love 

Or duty. Time has been, I should have deem'd 

The longest life just nature could bestow, 

As guerdon to the few who keep her laws, 

A span too short to measure half the love 

I yearn'd to pour upon thee. When I craved 

Advancement, 'twas thy fame that dazzled most. 

When offer'd place and honor, — when the throng 

Threw their unpurchased praises at my feet, 

My boyish fancy picturing the while 

A greater fame to follow, — 'twas thy smile 

That lit ambition's boundless sky, — thy love, 

That seem'd the only prize worthy to bless 

A life of struggle. 

LYTERIA. 

Have / suffer'd nothing ? 
Has not full measure of all earthly ill 
Been meted to my portion ? — Crush'd at last 
By thy distrust in that dark hour, when doubt 
From thee, struck deeper than the angry shafts 
That Fate aim'd at my bosom. 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 91 

CURTIUS. 

Cans't thou speak 
Of petty trial, when the soul of him, 
Whom thou hast claim'd to value as thyself, 
Waits on the bank of ruin? — while alas! 
The Sense is unillum'd, and reason's lamp, 
Given to guide man's instinct, sheds no ray 
On Heaven's dark dealings! 

LYTERIA. 

But that reason warns, 
That man should not confine celestial wisdom 
To narrow bounds where he may read its purpose. 
Marcus! this thought upheld me ; — or ere this 
My grief had conquer'd life. When first I bow'd 
In anguish to the earth, striving to stay 
The utterance, that Influence more strong 
Than human will claim'd from my lips, I breathed 
An atmosphere of fire. The ground was moved 
Beneath me, while the sun his solemn progress 
Quitted, and seem'd to reel along his course. 
The mighty presence of that misery 
Swell'd through this frame, and soon had thrust 
my soul 



92 LYTERIA : 

Forth from its prison to the genial air, 

Had not fresh fetters, forged by Jove's own hand, 

Bound it anew to earth; yet raised by aids 

Unseen, and in unnatural ecstasy 

Borne'on, I wrought the will divine. And this 

Support, impressed upon my soul, charm'd doubt 

And mortal weakness. Man is not allow'd 

To fathom the great mysteries of Jove, 

Nor weigh eternal justice, which regards 

With equal survey the whole race of man, 

And wills the general welfare : — Nor alone 

For mortal interest that Care consults, 

But with its blessing vision, still enfolds 

The countless beings bearing human form, 

Fashion'd from deathless fabric, which of old 

Commun'd with mortals ; and again may hold 

Such sacred intercourse, when later days 

Shall find our race redeem'd through sufferance 

To that pure state, when voices that now call 

Us to the skies, shall be as plainly heard 

As these poor words, wherein I speak of them 

CURTIUS. 

Has man no right to question the decree, 

That claims the greatest proof our faith can offer? 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 93 

LYTERIA. 

No! not the greatest; — for although the world 
Counts every pang that strikes the human breast 
In service so conspicuous, and lauds 
(As it is meet it should) the champion doom'd 
In one great act to yield all men most prize — 
Yet stronger trust must nourish the long lives 
Of those, who, in obscurity and toil, 
Receive a poison with each vital draught, 
Which still supplies the wasting heart of Want 
With energy to suffer; — Thou hast been 
Most blest in golden opportunity 
To show the virtue glowing in thy breast — 
But think of him, who feels, (it may be,) longing 
Strong as thine own for honorable service, 
Whose genius claims a place no less exalted, 
Than that where thou hast stood; — yet, bound 

by fate 
To poverty, — or chained, with fetters forged 
By sin ancestral, to some feeble frame, 
That may not act the mandate of the will, — 
Supports through life a spirit vainly striving 
With destiny no mortal strength can master. 
I have mark'd men, unpitied and unknown, 
Battling, 'gainst hope, with stern adversity ; — 



94 LYTERIA : 

And they have taught me, that to leave the heat 
Of our press'd being, drunk with the applause 
Of generations, present and to come, 
Asks not so great a trust in Heaven's love, 
As to endure that being, stripp'd of all 
That makes our bondage pleasant. 

CURTIUS. 

The soul, fill'd 
With its own misery, pictures as fair 
All other forms in which Woe stalks the earth ; 
And life, with all its agonies, is still 
So precious, that we fondly cling to gross 
And sensual nature, where old Use so ties 
The wonted spirit, that it shrinks to leap 
Into the unknown future. 

LYTERIA. 

'Tis well said. 
There is a chilling coolness in the grave 
Which we must fear, even when life's fever burns 
Most potently within us: Some rude jar 
Must shake us all, when earth's last tie is broke. 
And most they feel, who, pushed by Age, or 
whipp'd 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 95 

By licensed vice, are hurried to their doom; — 
But to the agent Jove selects to free 
His city from destruction — the great night 
Of breathing nature shall be lit with fires, 
Kindled by love in every beating heart, 
That thrills with its deliverance. A fame, 
The highest man can covet, shall be thine. 
So long as Rome's great founder shall be borne 
On time's enduring stream, — so long as children 
Learn the great justice that stern father dealt 
To those whom he had cherish'd, thy brave name 
Shall shine conspicuous. No age can dim 
The lustre of such noble sacrifice. 
When chiefs of present fame, and bards who sing 
Their praises, shall exist but in the earth, 
From whose full breast new tribes shall draw 

support, 
Thou still shalt live — immortal as the Right, 
Which beckon'd thee to Glory! 

CURTIUS. 

His blood flows 
Less warmly than doth mine, who could resist 
Such utterance. Lyteria — wife — forgive 
The lack of strength, that bred the sin of curs'd 



96 



LYTERIA : 



Suspicion. Thou art true — true — and most 
faithful. 

LYTERIA. 

Speak not of that — but tell me, I am stamp'd 
Once more with love's warm signet on thy heart* 

CURTIUS. 

I blush that thou shouldst ask. A selfish churl 
For some time wore the semblance men call 

Curtius. 
Now the true owner rules. I hear, through thee, 
The voice of inspiration, and obey 
Its awful mandate. — Yet how strange to choose 
One tied to earth thus strongly ! Why take hearts 
Beating so quick to life's fresh harmonies, 
While thousands, bending beneath age and care, 
Pray for the end, unanswer'd. To leave thee, 
When first I rightly know thine excellence, — 
Oh 't is a fate too hard ! No, — I blench not, — • 
Yet some complaint must struggle to the air, 
When the celestial fountain of such love 
Is rudely turn'd forever from his path, 
It leaped from earth to gladden, and to bless. 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 97 

LYTERIA. 

Forever? No! 'T were then a cruelty 
Beyond all sufferance. Are we not taught, 
By instinct strong as that which prompts the bee 
To hive the summer sweets, that our advance 
By every unchecked impulse to the Truth, 
We must possess hereafter? Each sad step, 
By which we slowly climb to those far heights 
Of purity and love, where man shall stand 
In future more remote than human thought 
Can pierce, shall bless us through time's endless 

path 
That all earth's sons must traverse. 
Think, what great works man's energy hath 

wrought, 
In this, his primal state; — the mighty tombs, 
Egyptian labor rear'd to tell the world 
Their builders are forgot, — and every form 
Of strength or beauty, fashion'd from the earth, 
Must teach, if rightly studied, man's strong will 
Shall finally disperse all mists that hang 
Before that perfect calm of happiness, 
Whereto he was created from the first. 
7 



98 LYTERIA : 

CURTIUS. 

In woman, unto whom the Gods allot 
Their gravest discipline, they plant a faith 
To bear in patience, life's long chastisement; — 
But when man's rarer troubles threaten peace, 
His soul, unanchor'd, floats from grief to grief, 
Craving a stay denied. Yet to perceive 
Such trust, in one elected to a task 
Perform'd so nobly, strikes some kindred spark 
In every witness. 

See ! thy father comes, 
To learn the true fulfilment of thy pledge. 
I gladly welcome him. 

{Enter Dcelius.) 

Do not recall 
Past weakness : Let the word die on thy lip 
Unutter'd. Self returns. — 
The name, bequeath'd in honor, still is borne 
By him who knows its value. Praise not me, 
But give your thanks to her, who merits them — 
Does Lucius wait within the Temple still? 

DCELIUS. 

Rome's gravest nobles linger in our courts, 
And he among them. 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 99 

CURTIUS. 

Does their cooler sense 
Receive for truth, the new interpretation 
Of the dark words given by the Oracle ? 

DCELIUS. 

Reason, more strong than will, compels all Rome 
To marvel at her dullness ; slow to hear 
What e'en mute nature utter'd. She receives 
This rendering of the mystic words of fate ; — 
We must accept what Heaven clearly speaks. 

CURTIUS. 

And I accept it also. I delay 
Too long already, — Bring me quickly then, 
To the dark entrance of that fane, whose altar 
Hungers to snatch its victim. 

LYTERIA. 

Oh, not yet! 
Some hours are left us. For yon setting sun 
Ceases to draw the vapors from the pit, 
That strike at life so surely. Not until 
His smile relights the earth, will Plague's foul 

breath 
Taint this pure ether. 



100 LYTERIA : 

DCELIUS. 

Daughter, thou say'st well. 
Some hours are left to spend in that sad parting, 
The city claims from this, her noblest son. 
Freighted with sacrifice and earnest prayer, 
This night shall leave our Temple, where all 

ranks 
•Collected, shall have poured their thanks to 

Heaven, 
Who gives not man a destiny so grand, 
Without the strength to bear it. 

CURTIUS. 

Yes — the strength — 
It will be — has been — given. And yet to wait, 
When every nerve is tense — To gaze at death 
'Through fever'd hours, that creep so slow to 

watchers — 
Well, I can bear this also. — Dcelius, 
This memory still enfolds thy teaching past, — 
Yet, for an instant, leave the austere speech, 
In which your order cloak each throb of passion, 
Let me but feel one breath of human pity ; — 
One whispered word — not spoke in doubt — but 

wonder, 
At the quick sacrifice your Gods command. 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 101 

'Twill break the cloud, which keeps the sympathy 
Bred in thy heart, from giving life to mine. 

DOSLIUS. 

If these rough cheeks are yet untraced by tears, — 
If the voice holds its wonted cadencies, — 
It is because the heart disdains to give 
A grief so great, such impotent expression. 
And, partly, that the Power, who leaves old Age 
Exposed to shocks that conquer younger hearts, 
But rarely calls our tears to answer them. 
Still, be assured, that would Jove take my life, 
And let my child, and him who sways her breast 
Cling to the Earth, whose perfumes infinite 
Pass, unabsorb'd, these withered avenues, 
That once admitted all the joys of sense, 
To feed the ravished soul, — I should await 
The end with gratitude. Yet even Youth, 
And the fresh love that crowns its sparkling cup, 
May find some comfort in the dreaded change, 
That ever threatens us. Bethink ye both, — 
No cold satiety, which mars our best 
Affections, can intrude 'twixt us, and those 
Departed. They possess our holiest moments. 
Our spirits rise in such august communion 



102 LYTERIA : 

As the pure-hearted hold with beings loved ; — 
The friend of youth torn early from the earth 
Departs in festal garments. He shall not 
Support the shrivell'd livery of Age, 
"Which cloaks the fairest forms that linger here 
Till night compels repose. No cloud is sent 
That does not hide some blessing. 

CURTIUS. 

The soul, wrapt 
In her despair, rejects all human comfort! 
Divorced from Earth ! Who can resign the form 
Through which we hold our treasure, and yet feel 
A claim to it survives ? But man can quell 
Such doubting : — and I do it ; — For the Will, 
Which conquers gates of brass and battlements, 
That melt Time's clutch to love's caress, should 

sway 
The subject mind. I only know the city 
Demands my life — I feel the privilege 
Of such high service. To the Temple, then, 
There to announce my purpose, and begin 
The solemn service, fit for the last night 
Of Rome's distress. But, dearest, come not 

thou ; — 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 103 

I must not see thee, standing pale and fair, 
Amid the throng, who only should behold 
Such sternness as becomes their chosen chief. 
Thy spirit, love, is weary, though undaunted ; 
Seek quiet, and if rest cannot approach, 
Strength shall be given through stillness; — 
When dawn shall tint the east, we meet once 

more. 
Farewell — thy prayer — thy love — shall nerve 

my heart — 
I will believe no parting is forever. 

[Exeunt Daslius and Cur tins, 

LYTERIA. 

Yes ! — we have parted : — Now the stifled sob 
May join the dirge, that though these wind-swept 

pines, 
Bewails the perish'd day ; — Why flow these tears 
Denied in greater need ? Is he not true 
Even as love imag'd him? Yes! I have gain'd 
All — all — the Gods commanded ! 

The brave chief, 
Fighting to save his country, little wrecks 
The wound where life fasts ebbs. And thus to 

me, 



104 LYTERIA : 

Feeling was sunk in action, — but that o'er, 
The buried shaft wakes the dull'd sense to torture. 
" No parting is forever ! " But the change 
Wrought in our higher state, — that is my dread. 
Will he not there exceed all earthly progress, 
And so be far removed from all /feel, 
When called to join him ? I ask not a purer, 
A nobler soul, than here possesses Marcus, — 
But for himself, unstripp'd of e'en the faults, 
That hang about him, and endear to one 
Conscious of kindred weakness. 

Yet such thoughts 
But little fit the delegate of Jove, 
Whom Heaven itself shall succor. Men will speak 
My constancy ; and praise a sacrifice 
So dead'ning. Praise of men ! — Why do I try 
Such empty comfort? In those burning hours, 
When first my love was answer'd, — how despised 
The censure or the praise of all save him ! 
Oh cruel fate ! — to grant such thrilling joy, 
As youth's quick fancy hardly dared to dream, 
And then to tear it from the quivering heart 
Fed by its presence ! — I may save him yet, 
By hurrying to the Temple to deny 
The awful inspiration! — 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 105 

And, with some frantic gesture, or rude cry, 
Shout to the crowd, that not the voice divine, 
But madness spoke this last demand of Jove! — 
Could wasting fasts, or heaven-wearying prayer 
Gain pardon for such sin ? No — crime like this, 
Mocking all expiation, still would dog 
Our flying steps — itself, a great avenger. 

Ye helping beings, whom, unseen, I feel 

In the soft breath of evening, gently bear me 

Through the dark path I travel. Till the last, 

May every selfish feeling be subdued 

To his support and comfort. And oh Thou! 

Whose ways we know so little, yet whose love 

We feel, but cannot fathom — save thy child 

In this first night of wedlock, — and the last! 



End of Act IV. 



106 LYTERIA : 



ACT V. 

The Forum — The Gulf is seen at the back — 

A broken Altar on the right. 

Time — before sunrise. 

Prothus and Aulus discovered. 

PROTHUS. 

What mockery ! To wreathe with flowers the 

shrine, 
Shiver'd by Him for whom its victims bled. 

AULUS. 

Nay, from the altar touch'd by Jove's great 

wrath, 
When first it shook the earth, thanks for the 

grace 
That now redeems our lives, may well ascend. 
Place here the fruit; — this fallen bud must join 
Its blooming sister; — so — all things are done, 
As Dcclius commanded: — 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 107 

Does no sign 



Of morning tint the east? 



PROTHUS. 

Yes, a faint gray, 
The herald of the dawn, struggles with darkness. 
The moon grows paler! It should near the time 
When our sad priests lead Curtius to the place, 
His deed shall consecrate. The noisome mists, 
Now harmless, weigh'd to earth, rise with the sun, 
And shut from Rome his daily benediction. — 
Then, must the gift be offer'd. Will the bride 
Witness the sacrifice ? 

AULUS. 

While Curtius treads 
The bitter remnant of his glorious path, 
She will be with him ; — even to the gulf 
Where she must pour her being. None can tell, 
If Fate, that forfeits her best life to Home, 
Will grant a poor remainder, and permit 
The widowed heart to waste through years of 

silence, 
Or lavish (prodigal in sacrifice) 
A gift unask'd by Heaven. 



108 LYTERIA: 

P ROTH US. 

Well hast thou read 
Her purpose. — She is here — What deadly calm 
Lives in her marble brow! Such trust is not 
Of earth's philosophies ; it is His gift, 
Who calls the soul to trial. Mark her eyes; 
They seem to gaze where Cynthia's light aids not 
Their delicate function. 

AULUS. 

She is still upheld 
By an unearthly presence, which exalts 
Nature to bear its agonies with patience. 

(Enter Lyteria.) 
Daughter, we would say, welcome — but the word 
Melts into air unutter'd ; for thy approach, 
More than the blushing east, tells of the day 
Rome dreads — yet longs to know. 

LYTERIA. 

Dismiss all greeting : 
In sacred silence, rather, mark with me, 
How Heaven's vast machinery, unsway'd 
By mortal grief, hymns its august contriver! 
Its majesty of motion is not urged 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 109 

By the sharp cry wrung from the drowning 

wretch, 
Who gasps for day to clutch the plank of safety ; 
Nor can those, dreading light, that brings them 

darkness, 
Stay, for a single instant, Phoebus' wheels 
In their appointed course. Yet we, who feel 
What great necessity rules nature's force, 
Must know a peace sublime, and ev'ry heart 
Should tame its pulses to that solemn beat, 
Which strikes the measure in the constant march 
Of universal order. 

AULUS. 

Thy brave words 
Declare the night has wrought a holy comfort. 
Earth's baffled hopes and disappointed loves 
Are our best teachers. They exalt the soul, 
(So we receive them rightly,) and refine 
Our grosser passion to such pure desire, 
As, shrinks from sense, to know its best fulfilment. 

LYTERIA. 

How many sleepers, plagued by fever'd dreams, 



110 LYTER1A : 

Have been the sport of fancies black as mine ; 
Yet soon the sun, waking our world to gladness, 
Dispels these visions; so a day shall come, 
In whose pure brightness mine must all dissolve, 
And I shall know their meaning. 

AULUS. 

Thy soul is borne 
Above the woes of sense. May nothing call 
It earthward, to resume its painful vesture ! 

PROTHUS. 

The air teems solemn music, such as waits 
Our greatest captains to their monuments. 
A throng of eager life, in confused mass, 
Crowds to this place. The ancient steel, so long 
Unused, gleams at the front. Rome's noblest son 
Supports it ! 

LYTERIA. 

Yes! 'Tis true. Leave me not, Aulus — 
A chill steals through me — Night's dank dew 
Strikes on rny cheek ; or is 't fear's icy drops 
That chill me ! Help me now, ye ministers 



A DRAMATIC POEM. Ill 

Of strength, whom I believe are near! An hour 

gone — 
There's nothing left to pray for — 
{Enter Cartius, Lucius, and Dcelius, followed by 
priests, nobles, and a crowd of citizens) 

LUCIUS. 

Marcus, thy hand ; 
I could not clasp it with a greater pride, 
If redden'd by the blood of every foe 
Who doubts our Roman valor. Had thy sire 
Lived to behold this deed, paling those feats 
Which wreath'd thy boyish brow with leaves of 

oak, — 
He would have wept, even as I do now, 
With joy to bless the nobleness he father' d. 

DCELIUS. 

Though faintly sounds the weak applause of 

men, 
To that approving voice within the soul, 
Whose praise out-tongues all flattery, — yet 

must itome 
Show sign of gratitude ; — lauding herself 
In her most valued son. Thou art blest, Marcus — 



112 LYTERIA : 

Blest in each breath our people safely draw. — 
Give grateful echo with your voices, friends, 
To what I poorly speak in your behalf. 
(Great Shouting.) 

CURTIUS. 

Your favor is most welcome ; yet let it speak 
Only in whisper'd prayer, for strength to leave 
All I have cherish'd here, to Rome's protection. 
Give me such heavy moments as remain, 
To breathe some words of parting to the heart, 
That first declared the ransom heaven ordained. 

Once more let me regard thee. — Nay — expose 
Thy features to the placid light that smooths 
Time's furrows, or the deeper lines of grief. 
I would impress thee in my memory ; 
So when the sense, which feeds upon thee here, 
Be press'd 'neath death's cold signet, (as it shall,) 
A kind remembrance may restore thy form, 
As now 't is pictured, and to my waked soul 
Temper the strangeness of futurity. 

LYTERIA. 

The flowers that spring to bless our earthly walk, 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 113 

Breathe their rich odors through Night's thickest 

veil — 
Then, never doubt the spirit hath a sense 
To hold what once it loved ; although the cheek 
That glow'd affection's answer, wastes in death 
Or pales through weary years of solitude. 

CURTIUS. 

Yes ; as the soul draws near enfranchisement, 

Truth is reveal'd that life's thick fancies screen'd. 

No longer rack'd by superstitious fear, 

I feel a calmness as the stroke descends, 

To sever earth's strong tie ; — inspired to know 

That Love may warm the icy stream of death 

And fill the timorous heart with trustfulness. 

LYTERIA. 

'T is not unlike that as we leave this clay, 
Whose aches and mortal need have sometimes 

turn'd 
Man's love to fretful doubt, we shall divest 
The soul from all the grossness which prevents 
That perfect union — the young dream of love — 
Earth was not meant to realize. Our brave deeds 
Shall there attest passion's exalting power, 
8 



114 LYTEBIA : 

Which here is often wreck'd on honied speech, 
That tells our love — not, lives it. 

CURTIUS. 

Yet Rome knows 
' T was no inglorious life I purposed here, 
Draining existence from the unpaid earth : 
Each day would have recorded some new act, 
That thou had'st hail'd exulting. 

LYTERIA. 

'T was well plann'd. — 
Such life must be eternity's best prelude. — 
Yet, deem not the great purposes unwrought, 
In this our primal state, fail of their fruitage. 
Think rather, each desire shall know fulfilment, 
When, in its own dim twilight, melts the earth, 
And the bright flash that shows the Thunderer's 

face 
Shall display work of greater nobleness, 
Than by the shrouded light that guides us here, 
Our sense can look on. 

CURTIUS. 

Words of hope suit well 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 115 

The breaking day, which lends a radiance 
To plainest robes borne on the breast of nature. 
The bird's sweet matin rings so full of life, 
That man must learn contentment in those notes, 
Which charm to sleep each doubting thought of 

death, 
With heaven's persuasion. 

LYTERIA. 

The young dawn 
Gives freshness to the earth with such large 

bounty, 
That all must drink some portion of the trust 
Which fills with calmness the unreasoning world ; 
Yet as the east warms to its coming lord, 
I feel it draws such color from my cheek, 
As the stern night has left. But do not heed 
This paleness ; for the blood, leaving the face, 
Flies warmly to the heart, giving it strength 
To suffer. 

AULUS. 

'Gainst my will, I must announce 
The moment of thy glory. — Clearest stars 
Dissolve themselves in light, and the foul breath 



116 LYTERIA I 

Of Earth, hungry for havoc, soon will rise. 
The Consul, and the Father of thy wife, 
Wait at the altar ready to pronounce 
Rome's last farewell and blessing. 

CURTIUS. 

I am prepared 
To meet them, though the sun yet faintly shows 
His coming. 

Ye grave men, whom I have ever 
Reverenced, and who show, through the forced 

sternness 
"Which holds the face from imaging the heart, 
That human fondness cannot all be quench'd 
Even when Heaven wills it ; — Briefly speak 
The words of parting; — or still better, clasp 
This hand in silence — 't is our best farewell. 

DOELIUS. 

Silence may well be ours, — since Time's deep 

voice, 
Which ever speaks with truth's grand emphasis, 
Shall, in its mighty chorus, swell thy name 
Down through the list'ning ages. Noble men 
Shall deem their honor surest, when like thee, 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 117 

They yield themselves an offering for their race. 
And not alone the sacrifice of life 
Shall give this glory. — He who strives to cleanse 
The time from popular error, — He who speaks 
Against some blighting wrong which men delight 
To cherish, — these brave souls, — scoff 'd and 

despis'd 
By those for whom they labor, — shall receive 
Thy name as highest praise, when other times 
Shall hail their sacrifice, as Rome hails thine. 

CURTIU&. 

If in your memory my name shall live, 
Let it be join'd with hers who nobly spoke 
The words of heaven, and urged me to fulfil them. 
If she had blenched, — I had not stood here now. 

LUCIUS. 

Woman's brave deeds are never recompensed 
From the world's mint of homage. She receives 
Only the praise (too oft but faintly spoke) 
Of him she leads to honor ; for her sphere 
Is far removed from the red field of Life, 
Where Man is form'd to combat. They are few 



118 LYTERIA : 

Who read in Fame's bright chronicle of worth, 

Unwritten praise of that devoted friend 

Who smooth'd the path of duty. Yet tho' the 

world 
To greatest action still denies applause, , 
We, who have known Lyteria, must proclaim 
Such nobleness the richest legacy 
Our champion leaves the city he has saved. 

DGELIUS. 

See, yonder threat'ning cloud is edged with fire, 
Showing the sign of promise, — while it tells 
The time has come for parting. 

CURTIUS. 

I accept 
The omen. — Ye tried friends, adieu. — Adieu, 
Fair city, for whose sake I had been proud 
To live. And thou — no — no — a last farewell 
Shall never pass between us. — We shall meet — 
And for no separation: — Whence this thrills 
Through all my lighten'd being is unknown ; 
But as our sense closes to sounds of Earth, 
Voices divine strike inward : 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 119 

Now the mist 
Steals upward. The dark shroud awaits a tenant ; 
I wrap myself in its malignant folds — 
The latest victim it shall snatch from Rome ! 

LYTERIA. 

Nay, but an instant; — One last look of love — 
No ! I will stay thee not. Phoebus is yet' 
Concealed — Yon ruddy beam, that faintly tints 
The cloud, shoots not from his bright chariot! — 

DCELIUS. 

Hold him not, daughter, whom the Heavens call. 
Thou hast been brave ; let not our mortal fear 
Seize on thee now, to dim the former trust, 
Which sheds a lustre on the sacred act, 
That shall redeem us from the wrath divine. 

LYTERIA. 

Yes ! I am well reminded — Curtius — go — 
Nay — I will lead thee to the embrace of fame, 
Which woos thee to herself. Look not on me — 
A worthier mistress claims Rome's noblest son j 
Yes — I am happy — Do not say farewell — 
But — Marcus — leap to glory ! 



120 LTTERIA : 

(As the sun rises, Curtius plunges into the 
gulf, which closes upon him. Lyteria remains 
motionless for some moments, and then falls upon 
the earth.) 

lucius". 

Jove receives 
Our offering. — The city lives again, — 
And not too dearly are the Gods appeas'd. 
"While from this altar thanks are render'd Heaven, 
Let every ransom'd bosom echo them. 

AULUS. 

Pray you, regard Lyteria ; see, she falls — 
The poison'd shaft, unspent, has struck her life. 

PROTHUS. 

Nay, 'tis but faintness, she will breathe again — 
For sorrow, ever impotent in death, 
Still moulds the face. 

AULUS. 

I fear the final sigh 
Has parted those white lips. — Who would 
recall her! 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 121 

DCELIUS. 

I — I must claim her being. Dearest child, 
Sole comforter and solace of my age, 
Leave me not thus — A little longer bless 
This fainting soul. Give not such bitter end 
To the spent life, which deadens at thy absence. — 
Ye Gods, whom I have worshipp'd — spare me 
this! 

LUCIUS. 

Be patient, Doelius : Still she seems to breathe, — 
She will be spared to thee. See, this bright blade, 
Held to her lips, is tarnish' d. 

DCELIUS. 

No, 'tis dull'd 
But by the hand that clasp'd it. She is gone ! 

Creator Jove, by whose command the fibres 
Of this worn heart enclosed another being, 
Pardon the prayer o'erburthen'd nature spoke ! 
Be dumb, thou mighty grief! — lest the still air 
Repeat my cry to the escaping soul, 
And call it back to suffer. Here I bend 
To Heaven's will. — I am forsaken. 



122 . ltteria: 

LYTERIA. 

(Supported by Lucius and Aulus seems to hear 
the last ivords of her Father. She slowly re- 
vives, looks tenderly upon Dcelius, and after 
some moments raises herself and speaks.) 

'- Not so, 

My father; I return to lend what light 
Affection may bestow to the dulPd sense 
Of age. Forgive thy child, that, stunn'd by grief 
So bitter, the rash soul striving with Fate, 
Shook off the chain that binds us all to earth, 
And clinging to his heart, which held its life, 
Rush'd to the verge of being. I have near'd 
Those precincts, where none tied to carnal life, 
May enter. But some influence repell'd 
The soul, not destin'd to put off its poor 
Mortality. Yet brought so near the state 
Of the enlighten'd, I have drank their teachings. 
I saw the blessedness of him, who serves 
The majesty of conscience with his life, 
And yields what, in the name of Deity, 
This monitor demands. Some must endure 
The torture of the flesh, destin'd to wean 
Man from the life he clings to ; — Others, call'd 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 123 

By duty, bare the breast to the quick shaft, 
Which ever seeks the savior of his race ; — 
And those there are, who meekly must perform 
An unapplauded service of the soul, 
And wait for time's relief. 

The grief of Rome 
Call'd for the death of Curtius; — The last years 
Of him whom most I reverence, and the care 
That I am bless'd to render those cast out 
From the world's sympathy, demand my being. 
Duty — not self-imposed — asks man's submission. 
With what devotion he discharged his part, 
Ye are the witnesses. Pray that some share 
Of his great strength descend upon the heart 
Chosen from all the world to know him best. 
Our Curtius died for Rome. Receive thy child; 
Father ! — I live for thee. 



THE END. 



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September, 1854. 



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